


We Ain't Ever Getting Older

by BookPirate



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Happy Ending, Post-Break Up, with a little brolexa at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookPirate/pseuds/BookPirate
Summary: It's been four years since Clarke has seen or heard from Bellamy. Just her luck he's in the same hotel bar she's at.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that Chainsmokers song "Closer" featuring Halsey.
> 
> Title from the same.

Clarke sighs, leaning against the wood of the bar as she waits for the bartender to come closer so she can catch the guy's attention. By the looks of how crowded the place is, she guesses it'll take a while, so she lets her eyes wander around the room. Lexa and Niylah have to fly back out early the next morning, so they've gathered at the hotel's bar for one last drink before they say goodbye. She smiles as she sees their heads bent together, smiling without a care in the world. It twists in her heart a little, her two ex-girlfriends finding happiness in each other. She remembers messy black curls and a warm smile before she quickly shuts down the thoughts.

Finally, the bartender comes back and Clarke places her order quickly, watching as he pours three scotches neat. She slides him the appropriate money before trying to maneuver her way through the crowd with three precariously balanced glasses. She almost makes it, but trips a little a few feet away from the table Lexa and Niylah are sitting at.

Before the drinks can spill, however, a large hand cups her elbow and pulls her upright. Sighing in relief, she turns around. "Hey, thank," she pauses as her eyes widen at the sight of the man in front of her, "you. Bellamy."

"Hey." His voice is exactly as she remembers it, just as deep and gravely, and she curses him for the shiver that runs up her spine.

"Hi." She clears her throat, forcing herself to not run away. "It's been a long time."

"Four years." He shifts a little on his feet, almost nervously. "What're you doing back in town?"

"I've moved back," she says simply. "Look, I have to set these down."

He takes one of the glasses out of her hands. "Let me help."

She sighs, in exasperation this time. "Bellamy, you don't have -"

"I want to," he reassures her. "Really."

At least her table is mercifully close. "Fine. Come on."

She leads him to the table where Lexa and Niylah are watching them carefully. "Who's this?" Lexa asks suspiciously.

"This is Bellamy," she says, sitting down. "Bellamy, my friends, Lexa and Niylah. They helped me move."

Lexa eyes him warily while Niylah warmly extends a hand. "Pleasure."

"Nice to meet you, too." He smiles at them, and Clarke takes a large gulp of her drink.

Niylah and Bellamy make small talk as Lexa glares daggers at him and Clarke tries to down her drink as fast as possible. Bellamy keeps shooting her concerned looks and it irks her on a level she hates he still has access to. She kicks Lexa's ankle in an effort to get her to behave, but that just gets her angry stare targeted on Clarke. Huffing out a sigh, Clarke sets down her glass and stands up. "Alright, I have to get home. I'll be back in the morning to pick you guys up."

Lexa gets up and hugs her fiercely. "I will eviscerate him," she whispers.

Clarke laughs and pats her back. "Yeah, love you, too. See you tomorrow, guys." She turns to Bellamy, nodding once, short. "Bye, Bellamy," she says, trying to keep an edge in it as she turns and darts through the crowd.

She takes a deep breath of fresh air as soon as she leaves the bar, feeling like she's been holding her breath for too long. Seeing Bellamy was a shock, especially in a hotel bar none of the locals would've been caught dead in. She remembers being 22 and feeling invincible, the last time she and Bellamy had been in a bar together. Now at 26 and tired, all she wants is to go home to her semi-unpacked apartment and sleep for the next 12 hours.

"Clarke, wait!" She hears him shout after her, so she picks up the pace towards her car, gripping her keys in an effort to outrun him so she doesn't have to deal with him. Unfortunately, he's in much better shape than she is, so he easily catches up, gripping her wrist in his fingers. "Clarke, I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you, Bellamy," she snaps, snatching her wrist back as she continues towards her car, now only two parking spaces away.

"Clarke, come on, please," he pleads, pulling at her arm again, so she's turned to face him. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she bites back. "Not letting me leave? Or breaking my heart?" He winces, but she presses on, "Because, as I remember it, Bellamy, the last time we saw each other ended with you telling me you never wanted to see me again."

"I was also drunk off my ass." He huffs in frustration, running his hands through his hair.

"And yet, you never called me or texted me. Not  _once_ in four years, Bell," she says, the nickname slipping out of her on a sob she's trying to repress.

"You left!"

"You told me to!" she throws back angrily.

"And I've regretted it every day since, believe me. It was the worst thing I've ever done." He looks at her with soft eyes. "I still love you."

She slaps him, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You don't get to say that, you fucking asshole. Not now."

He rubs the red mark on his cheek. "Okay, I probably deserved that, but Jesus Christ, that hurt."

She feels something loosen in her chest. "Good." She considers him. "What are you looking for, Bellamy? Forgiveness? Because I can't give that to you right now."

"I know," his voice is hoarse as he says, "believe me, I know."

"Then what?" she demands.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "I want to make it up to you, any way you'll let me."

There's something so open and vulnerable about his face that makes her remember the first time he ever said he loved her, when she was 21 and he was 23, under the stars and fireworks of a Fourth of July party Miller had thrown. So, she does the only reasonable thing she can think of and throws her arms around his neck, dragging him in for a kiss.

He's obviously surprised at first, but soon wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in closer, returning the kiss with equal fervor. It's harsh and punishing, exactly as she wants it, a push and pull of tongue and teeth, until it becomes more desperate and needy, with his lips attached to her neck and her breathy moans escaping one after the other.

"Bellamy," she pushes at his shoulders lightly, mind hazy with longing, "we're in a parking lot."

"Where's your old clunker?" he murmurs against her collarbone, seemingly unwilling to let her go.

"My mom bought me a new car as a graduation gift. It's the SUV over there," she gasps as he bites into the skin between her neck and shoulder. "It's close."

They stumble over to the car, Bellamy keeping a tight hold on her until he's able to press her against the back door, giving her a kiss that's long and filthy and makes her toes curl in her shoes. She fumbles with her keys until she can hit the unlock button, wrenching the door behind her open and pushing him in to the admittedly roomy back seat.

In what seems like no time at all, he's got his fingers in her as he swallows every sound she makes with his mouth pressed against hers. She comes apart much more quickly than she has in years, keyed up from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. When her head clears, she opens her eyes, unaware they were closed, to see Bellamy leaning over her, a fond smile on his face. "Hi."

She bites her lip, shy. "Hi."

"This wasn't exactly how I planned this speech ending up," he admits.

Clarke frowns, and manages to prop herself up on her elbows. "What?"

"I didn't, I mean, I don't want you to think I'm just looking to hook up with you." He squeezes her hip when she tenses up. "I was serious before, about still being in love with you. I know you probably don't feel the same, but -" he sighs, dropping his forehead against her shoulder, "I miss my best friend."

Maybe it's because she still feels a little boneless from her orgasm, but she carefully cards her fingers through his hair. "What would you have done if I hadn't come back? If you hadn't seen me in the bar tonight?"

"I've been trying to get Raven to help me," he admits, nose tucked against the hollow of her throat. "I was going to fly out to the city to see you."

She lets out a breath and rests her head against the seat again. "And if I don't want you back?"

She feels him tense, and deliberately keeps running her fingers through his hair. "I'd be in your life any way you would have me."

"And if I didn't want you at all?" she pushes him.

He shifts so he's looking at her. "I'd leave you alone. Is that what you want?"

She considers him, really studies him for the first time in a long time. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his face is thinner, more worn out. He's still breathtaking, and she can trace the constellations of freckles across his face from memory. Her heart, while certainly not in the levels of distress it had been when he had told her to go to the city, because he didn't want her with him anyways, was still hurt. But, she has never been happier than when she had him by her side.

"You broke my heart," she tells him honestly.

He looks like she punched him in the gut. "I understand," he says, starting to pull away.

Clarke slides her free arm around his shoulders. "I want you to make the fact you broke my heart up to me, and I want you to stay while you do it."

Bellamy's face breaks into a wide smile before pressing her down into the seat, kissing her warmly and sweetly. Her toes curl against the door as he licks into her slowly. She sighs in contentment as he pulls away, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. "So, what do you want to do for tonight?"

"Come home with me," she runs a finger over his cheekbone, "so you can start making it up to me immediately."

"Okay." He kisses her again, and they get caught up in it, until a car starting close by startles them out of it.

She bursts out into laughter and pushes at his shoulder. "Bellamy! Come on, where's your car?"

He noses at her cheek. "I came with Octavia and Lincoln. Lincoln's cousin Luna is in town and staying here, so we were meeting up for drinks, but I'm pretty sure they've already left without me. I told them to, anyways, once I saw you."

"And if I hadn't stopped for you?"

"I would've taken a cab, Jesus, Clarke."

She hums and taps at his shoulder again. "Well, you still have to move. I'm not sleeping in this car again."

"Again?" he asks curiously.

"Lexa and Niylah drove with me out here to help me move," she explains, sliding out of the back seat and in to the driver's. "They're flying back into the city tomorrow."

"That's nice of them." He fiddles with the dials on the radio. "I'm glad you, uh -"

"Didn't have a completely shit life after you dumped me?" she half-teases, swallowing a lump in her throat. "Lexa was in my program, and we actually dated for a couple of months, before she realized, well, that I wasn't over someone else. And Niylah was a rebound who realized we were better off as friends than girlfriends." It's been long enough that she finds the whole situation pretty funny, so she snorts. "Now they're dating, and have been for a year. That was pretty much my entire social life in the city."

He slips his hand into hers and squeezes. "I dated this girl named Gina for three months after you left."

She swallows another sudden lump in her throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he clears his throat and looks at her. "She's friends with Raven, from their hometown. Her mom got sick so she had to move back, and we ended things. I think she realized I wasn't over you." He exhales and leans back against the seat. "I'm sorry."

The air of lightheartedness disappears and she bites her lip, wondering what she's doing. His hand in hers is a comforting weight, but at the same time she feels like she might wake up at any moment, and find this has all just been a masochistic dream. "I know you are, but that still doesn't make it right. I wasn't," she huffs, "I only applied to the city to make my mom happy, you know? I was never going to go, and, if I had wanted to, I would've told you. You should've known that."

"You went anyway," he says, without any heat.

"Because I couldn't stand to live in the same small town as you," she returns, just as matter-of-factly, "and I hated it. I hated the program and most of the people in it. So I decided to move back, because this was the last place I was happy." She smiles a little, "I should've known I'd run into you my first real night back."

He squeezes her hand again. "Well, I'm glad you did."

The rest of the drive is quiet, except for the low noise of the radio. When she parks in front of her building, she looks at him. "I was serious about wanting you to stay, but I want to be clear that this isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card, Bellamy. I'm really scared you're going to hurt me again." She takes a deep breath. "And making it up to me, it's going to take more than just fucking me, okay?"

He cups her face in his hands and gives her a gentle kiss, lingering a little before pulling back just far enough to meet her gaze. "I know. I'll make it right, Clarke, I promise. If you don't want to have sex, I won't ever bring it up."

"Okay," she breathes, tugging him in again, "I believe you, but I do still really want to have sex."

He laughs, but her words don't make them rush towards her bed. They're unhurried in the trek up to her apartment, holding hands and trading soft kisses as they climb the stairwell to the second floor slowly. That changes once they reach her door, however, and Bellamy crowds her against it and starts nibbling on her ear. She drops her keys with a sharp intake of breath and he chuckles, picking them up for her. "Need some help?"

"Asshole," she mutters under her breath, finally managing to unlock the door. "So, what do you think?" she asks, swinging the door open.

There are still a few boxes here and there, but Lexa, Niylah, Raven, and Wells had managed to help her get it pretty much in shape earlier in the day. He takes in the small apartment, before turning to her with a smile. "It looks nice, but I can't really pay attention to it right now."

"Why?" she asks, trying to get around him. "I've -"

He grips her hips and pulls her against him, against his erection. "Clarke," his voice is rough, causing her to shiver, "I need to know what we're doing tonight. If you want to just sleep, or fuck."

She shivers again, and presses her lips to his again. "The latter," she bites his lower lip, "please," she adds as an afterthought.

He groans in relief as he picks her up and presses her against the door, grinding up into her as her legs wrap around his waist. She lets her head drop against the door, feeling her underwear starting to soak through. He bites at her throat. "Where's the bedroom?"

"Door at the end of the hallway," she gasps, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

He grunts as he tilts his head up to kiss her, somehow managing to keep a steady grip as he walks, keeping a hand out for the doorknob. She tugs on his hair, and he groans again. "Fuck, Clarke."

She smiles, delighted she still knows how to rile him up. "Yes, that, please. Come on, it's that door." He pushes the door open and she hits her head on the doorframe. He looks concerned at her wince, but she shakes her head. "I'm fine, and we're almost there."

He finally drops her on her bed, smiling a little as she bounces. "You look so beautiful, babe, have I told you that?"

She gets up on her knees and finishes unbuttoning his shirt. "Not recently."

Before she can slide the shirt off his shoulders, he cups the back of her neck and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. "You're beautiful," he says, pushing her gently onto her back, "and I was insane to push you away."

He pushes her shirt up, pressing kisses to every new inch of skin uncovered, before finally reaching her lips and helping her get it off her arms. He trails kisses down her face and neck, hands slipping down her sides before suddenly stopping. She opens her eyes and looks at him. "Bell?"

He drags a finger over her left shoulder, tracing the tattoo she got the first year she spent away. " _This sick strange darkness_ ," he murmurs, reading it.

She shifts under him, nervous about his reaction. "I know, it's pretty pathetic, getting a Blink-182 tattoo in your 20s, but," she shifts again, trying to unstick the words in her throat, "my depression got worse that first year, and, I don't know, those words kept coming back to me."

"Our first date." He looks up at her with understanding and guilt behind his eyes. She knows he's remembering the night they listened to his old CDs and she told him about her dad, how bad the depression had been after he died. He presses his lips to hers again, hard and needy. "I'm so, so sorry."

She gasps into his mouth, "I know."

He shakes his head and bites at her tattoo, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper on her jeans. "You don't understand, Clarke," he says, his voice shaking. "I was so scared. I was waiting for you to wake up and realize you were too good for me. And then I saw the letter and thought, I should push you away before you hurt me. I didn't realize how much I would end up hurting myself."

She tries to tug his head back to her lips. "Bell -"

He shakes his head again, moving down her body to tug her jeans off. "Let me do this for you," he whispers into her hip, looking up at her with pupils blown wide.

She finds his hand on the bed next to them and laces their fingers together with a nod. "Okay."

The first stroke of his tongue against her has her arching off the bed and fisting her free hand in the sheets by her head. He's relentless with his tongue, lapping at her with such ferocity that she starts sobbing with the feeling. He brings her to the edge in record time and she half-shouts his name as she tips over it as he draws her clit between his lips and sucks.

She sees stars as he pulls away to pump two fingers into her, his mouth shiny with her come. "I fucking love watching you come, Clarke, did you know that?"

She shivers as her hips cant against his fingers. "Bellamy."

"You're always so beautiful, but when you're about to come? You're fucking ethereal." He presses his thumb down on her clit, giving her pressure that has her back arching off the bed again.

"I need," she gasps, "I need more, Bell."

"You're so greedy, babe." He slides a third finger into her as he kisses her hip bone. "I love it. I love you."

What she was really wanted was him inside her, but she can't find the words as she climbs another peak and tumbles off of it. She might actually black out, because when she opens her eyes again, he's smiling up at her with two fingers pumping slowly, trying to ease her off her high.

"Goddamn it, Bell," she growls, reaching to tug him up by his shoulders.

"What?" he asks, concerned as she pushes him on to his back.

"That's fucking three, and you haven't even come once yet." She huffs as she tugs his pants down, pulling his socks off with them.

"I thought I was supposed to be making it up to you." He tries to sit up to help her, but she pushes him back down.

She digs around in her bedside table for a condom before turning back to him. "Not all in one night!" She grasps his erection in her hand, gathering the precum that's gathered at the top and spreading it as she pumps him a few times. He shudders and falls back against her pillows, making her smile. "I like to watch you fall off the edge, too."

"Oh, yeah?" he murmurs, pulling her up for a kiss, gasping in to it when she twists her hand. "Clarke, I'm not gonna last if you keep that up."

She fumbles with the condom, almost accidentally tearing it when she finally gets the package open. He helps her roll it on before he pins her to the mattress and slowly pushes into her. They both groan when he bottoms out. He presses his forehead to hers, and she presses a kiss to his lips. "Move, Bell."

He seems content to go slow, setting a lazy pace as he mouths at Clarke's neck and jaw. "You feel so perfect."

The feeling of him stretching her out every time he makes a somewhat shallow thrust is nice, but she grows impatient quickly, and starts pushing up into his thrusts, digging her nails into his back. "Come on, babe. Don't you want to fuck me hard?"

Whatever was holding him back breaks as she says that, and he starts pounding into her with fervor as she struggles to keep up, chanting his name into his ear. He growls and hikes one of her legs up so it's resting in the crook of his elbow, spreading her out in a way that has her eyes rolling back into her head. "Clarke, look at me," he demands, pressing his thumb to her clit.

She manages to meet his eyes just as she feels herself clench around him, her muscles spasming. The force of her orgasm has her throwing her head back, crying out his name. She vaguely feels him desperately snapping his hips one, two more times, before stilling and collapsing on to her, his face buried in her neck.

When she comes back to herself, she sees Bellamy dozing on her, propping himself up on his arm so he doesn't crust her with his weight. She smiles at the sight, and pushes him so he's laying on his side. He startles awake, reaching automatically for her, and her smile widens. "I'm not going anywhere, Bell, just getting us more comfortable."

"Good," he mumbles, wrapping his arm around her waist and dragging her down so his chin is on top of her head.

"Um, condom?" She pokes him in the side. "You're still wearing it."

He groans. "Five more minutes."

"Come on, I should use the bathroom anyway, to clean up." She pushes at his chest.

"Fine." His sigh sounds long-suffering, and she snorts before she gets up and stretches.

She laughs outright when she realizes she's still wearing her bra. "Jesus, Bell."

"What?" He rolls to her edge of the bed after he ties off the condom and dumps it in the trashcan next to the bed.

"You didn't even get my bra off," she says, unhooking the back and letting it drop to the floor.

He sits up and reaches for her, pulling her closer with one arm as the other goes to her breasts. "I got distracted. Besides, you didn't manage to get my shirt off, so I'd say we're even."

She arches into his hand as he gives an experimental squeeze. "Lexa and Niylah fly out at seven tomorrow, so I have to be up early."

"I'll be fast," he promises, pulling her down to the bed so she's straddling him, taking a nipple into his mouth.

The moan she lets out is almost embarrassingly loud. "If you're sure."

He twitches between her legs. "Very."

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Clarke." Niylah's eyes widen when she first takes her friend in. "Did you get into a fight with a vacuum cleaner?"

Clarke's hands shoot up to cover her neck, realizing too late she should've looked into a mirror before she left. "Maybe?"

Lexa rolls her eyes. "You lasted one day, congratulations. I now owe your friend Raven $50."

"You guys bet on this happening?" Clarke's voice goes into a higher pitch in embarrassment.

"I, of course, had more faith in you, but I suppose it was unfounded." Lexa frowns at her. "Did you forget how much he hurt you?"

"This isn't," Clarke huffs, "look, we're trying, okay? Are we going to fast? Maybe. But I went for four years without him, and I don't want to wait any longer."

"And what if he hurts you again?" Lexa demands.

Niylah wraps an arm around her girlfriend. "Look, sweetie, Clarke is an adult, and she can make her own decisions."

"She's making a wrong one," Lexa sniffs, "but I suppose you're right."

"If he hurts me, he hurts me, but I'm willing to risk it," Clarke squares her jaw, "okay?"

Lexa holds her gaze for a moment before letting her shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine, but I am not helping you move again."

Clarke hugs her tightly before grabbing her bag and throwing it into the trunk of her car. Before she can take Niylah's bag, however, her friend pulls her into a hug. "I really hope it works out, Clarke."

"I hope so, too," Clarke says with a sigh. "I'll keep you guys updated."

* * *

"Niylah!" Clarke shouts across the din of the room. "Have you seen Bellamy? No one else has seen him!"

"He's in the kitchen with Lexa!" she shouts back, waving towards the back of the reception hall. Clarke sighs, and hikes her skirt up around her feet. She loved the dress when she tried it on, and still loves how it looks on her, but there's no denying it's a pain to walk in. She ducks around a group of distant relatives and ignores the drunk calls of Raven and Octavia for three-way dance, which she assumes is just the three of them dancing in proximity to each other.

Finally, she manages to shoulder her way into the kitchen, where she sees the staff watching in amusement as a very drunk Bellamy and Lexa try to intimidate each other with how fast they can move a knife around their hands, stabbing at the table instead of their fingers. "Bellamy, what are you doing?" she shouts.

He startles and drops the knife, his eyes a little glassy with the copious amounts of alcohol he's had in an effort to keep up with Lexa. She should've warned him Lexa has a steel liver. "Nothing!"

"Lexa, are you really goading Bellamy into risking his hand on his wedding day?" she snaps, snatching Bellamy's knife up off the chopping block they're playing on.

Admittedly, this is the drunkest she's ever seen Lexa, whose cheeks are a little flushed. "He must prove himself worthy of your love. I assume you would do the same to Niylah on our wedding day."

"I wouldn't, because I'm a nice person," she says, snatching the knife out of Lexa's hand, too. "Now, come on, Bellamy and I have to cut the cake."

This seems to sober Bellamy up somewhat. "Sorry, babe."

Clarke hands the knives off to a very amused looking waiter. "I'm so sorry," she apologizes to her before dragging her new husband and her bridesmaid out of the kitchen.

"Wait!" Lexa stops them, looking up at Bellamy. "I want to say this before we can be overheard." Clarke raises an eyebrow, but Lexa ignores her. "Bellamy Blake, you are not worthy of Clarke, but you are slightly less unworthy than anyone I have ever met."

Bellamy's eyes water and he pulls Lexa into a hug. "I love you, too, bro."

Lexa pats him on the back before eyeing Clarke. "You tell no one."

Clarke snorts. "I honestly don't think anyone would believe me if I did, so you're safe."

Later, after she's made Bellamy drink roughly a gallon of water, and he's swaying on the dance floor with her, he presses a kiss to her forehead. "Sorry I got super drunk with Lexa at our wedding."

"I forgive you." She smiles up at him. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah." He smiles back. "This is the best day of my life."

Clarke tilts her face up and manages to catch his lips in a kiss. "Mine, too."

His grin could light up a room. "Good."

 

 


End file.
